


this isn't what we meant

by dragonsinparis



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-22 06:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8276780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsinparis/pseuds/dragonsinparis
Summary: The world is rarely how it appears to be.In honor of Halloween, this is a collection of tales which explore different ways that the miraculous universe might be darker than it seems...and in which a happy ending isn't as easy to achieve as one might think, if it's even an option at all.





	1. do you want to make a contract?

It would be easy to tell you that it’s hard for me, every time, but the truth is that it isn’t.

It’s necessary, so it’s easy.

Haven’t you ever met a kindred spirit on a bus, or spoken to a friendly stranger standing next to you in line, and then watched them walk out of your life afterwards with utter indifference? They reminded you of the good in the world, but they were such a small piece in such a brief moment that you can’t even remember their face now, much less their name. Maybe they died the very next day. You don’t know, and your life is none the worse for it.

Be realistic. Five thousand years is a long time.

Plagg is more sensitive to it. He tries to be awful to his charges so that he won’t find himself liking them too much. It usually doesn’t work. I say the right things and I pitch my voice high and it usually does, and the best part is that they don’t even notice.

It’s imperative that the Chosen thinks that they’re important, that they’re special, that they’re different.

That I love them.

It’s important because it helps them last longer. And if purifying the akuma or using the cataclysm taints them too fast, everything falls out of balance.

There will always be villains. There always have been. If there’s a way to break the cycle, I haven’t found it in five thousand years. And so I do what I have to do, to balance against them.

To evolve, as all things do, by setting them against their heirs.

No one knows that Hawkmoth used to be a hero. Unlike Ladybug and Chat, he was always rooted in letting people be their  _ own _ hero. He was never anything but a voice in the heads of the people he helped, giving them the tools they needed to fight back against whatever was trying to bear them down. They kept his secret in return, and he preferred it that way.

He must have helped hundreds over the years, before the darkness got him. I sometimes wonder if they watch the news at night after an akuma attack, sitting in the corner of the couch and clutching a pillow, remembering that voice in their heads. Part of me hopes that they know that when he helped them, it didn’t turn them into monsters. That they were heroes - because back then, so was he.

On the other hand, part of me doesn’t care that much. It worked, didn’t it? They saved their cat or escaped their abuser or achieved their dreams. What does it matter how they feel about it now, years later? It doesn’t really change who they are, and it certainly doesn’t change what happened.

It won’t change what will happen next, either.

Ladybug and Chat Noir will get to Hawkmoth, sooner or later. He’ll slip up, or maybe Nooroo just won’t be able to bear it anymore. Nooroo has always been the weakest of us, the most sentimental. He wants to reason with his Chosen. He wants to save them. He wants to pretend it’s _ possible _ to save them, and that it isn’t our fault. We’re all guilty, but Nooroo’s the only one who’s quite so hypocritical about it, always whining on and on about the corruption of innocence.

He knows from the beginning that each transformation eats a little bit of their soul away, no matter the Miraculous. None of us tell our Chosen, of course. Then again, none of them ask.

It’s all about balance. We give them superpowers. None of them ask what those powers cost. That’s what happens when you bargain with a child. They think everything’s free.

It’s very convenient, to be honest.

So they’ll get Hawkmoth. Whether they kill him or arrest him doesn’t really matter, and will probably depend how long it takes - how far gone they’ll be. Early on, any Chosen has to have a lot of soul. It’s the only way the Miraculous will activate. People with a lot of soul tend to struggle with murder, even if it’s necessary. But if it takes a while, they might kill him.

Or who knows? Nooroo’s mind link might fail. Hawkmoth might remember what really happened to the Peacock, what he did, and throw himself off the roof.  I hope not, mostly because Nooroo would take it so personally and we’d never hear the end of it.

It’ll break Plagg’s Chosen, one way or the other. He doesn’t know he can’t quit, so he might try. And if he does, he might not figure out the truth until the curse ruins him anyway.

My Chosen will stick it out. Mine usually do. Plagg’s sentimental. I pick ones that look soft but aren’t. Sometimes they have to be toughened up at the beginning, like she did, but there’s iron under all that pink. She’ll carry through.

She might be numb enough by then to handle anything on her own, anyway. Once they tip the balance, duos rarely last.

Oh, they love each other, no doubt about it - even if they don’t know it yet. But even true love is fragile and fickle, and it generally requires a soul. I suppose hate could hold them together, or power, but that’s why we chose the boy - to drive them apart. Those two were doomed lovers before they even met. It’s hard to argue with a wedge like that. He might forgive her for being so tied to the end of his life and the end of his family, but he won’t be able to look her in the eyes day after day. She’ll become a reminder of everything he’s lost. They’re over before they’ve even begun, even if they haven’t turned.

They will turn, after all. That’s always the price. Once the last little bit of their souls have been used up by the Miraculous, they’ll step into the role on the other side of that grey moral line. The beauty and the tragedy is that they won’t realize they’re doing it, and when a new hero comes calling, they won’t even realize they’re the villain.

If they still had the capacity to see that, after all, they might be able to warn whoever follows them.

That doesn’t happen often, but it’s those times I tend to almost regret. Balance is important. The universe demands it, and is far harsher than we are in enforcing it. If you shed the Miraculous to keep your soul, the curse gets you.

Joan of Arc got to die a hero, but she did so in  _ acute  _ discomfort.

Better that this one fades out. Better she grows up, grows cold. Better that she snaps at her parents and stops returning that reporter girl’s phone calls. Better that she lets herself fall gently, softly into the darkness - the darkness is always so gentle, you barely feel it at all! - knowing that she has the kitty cat to keep her human. When that thread snaps, her own humanity will hardly be her first concern.

It really is better that way.

Well, maybe not for her. For her it would have been better if she’d given those earrings away after all.

Too late now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kris's alternative title for this was 'abigail has never trusted tikki, ever.' While this is not inaccurate, the title of this piece of course stems from the anime which inspired it. Which is a convenient way to nod to those of you who know and not spoil the fun for anyone who has yet to see it.
> 
> The work title comes from the Savatage song of the same name.


	2. midnight in paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (just a quick note that this is unconnected to the previous chapter, and does not exist in the same universe)
> 
> beta'd as always by kris/therentyoupay, embodiment of perfection

_deus ex machina: an unexpected power or event saving a seemingly hopeless situation, especially as a contrived plot device in a play or novel._

 

The city is burning.

Despite everything it’s been through, Paris has remained the jewel of Europe, the crowning treasure of art and culture and western civilization.

But everything comes to an end, sooner or later. It isn’t as if I didn’t know that there would be sacrifices when I started this, and in the end, Paris itself is just glass and steel and stone. Hardly worth quibbling over, when the other side of the scale is balanced with human life.

Which isn’t to say that no lives have been lost in pursuit of my endeavor.

I am not so high-minded and self-indulgent as to pretend that these people deserved to die, or would have chosen to sacrifice themselves for the benefit of my cause if they’d known what lay at the root of my motives. And yet: how can I stop now? They are already dead. It would be the height of disrespect to suddenly pretend as if it is no longer worth it to me, when giving up wouldn’t bring them back. It will bestow no comfort on their families and do no honor to their memories.

And so I endure.

I suspect Ladybug endures, too. I have no proof, but I can sense her out there.

The Hero of Paris - what a lark! Well, it isn’t as if they love her anymore. If she had just surrendered her Miraculous, none of this would be happening. None of them would be suffering.  

The idea that Ladybug ever could have matched me is laughable. The power of luck isn’t a _deus ex machina_. If she had some gift that magically restored everything left broken and brutalized by akuma attacks, if she could toss her little toys in the air and cleanse the city of the fear and destruction and death, then she might have had a shot. Her power allows her to make whatever tool she needs to win a fight...but that is all. She cannot hit the reset button, she cannot undo any destruction the akuma causes or heal anyone it hurts. She cannot unmake the past. If she could start every battle back at the beginning of the game, she would have stood a chance.

But she doesn’t - that would be ridiculous, that would be godhood - and so we exist together in hell, along with all of Paris, waiting for the other to stumble.

My son has not been home in weeks. I _think_ it has been weeks. But I have had him taught to climb and fence and fight and _learn_. I did not teach him to rebel, but clearly he’s figured it out or he would have returned by now. No matter. When I get his mother back, he will come home. He will forgive what he saw, and we will be a family again. He will understand.

In the meantime, I turn to the problem of Ladybug. She has not been seen in eight days. She is self-righteous, and a child, and falls into every trap that presents. Perhaps she is feeling guilty that she was unable to stop my most recent akuma, which destroyed most of what must have once been her school. Only a few students were there, but then again, only the bravest of children - with the most reckless and blind of parents - attend schools anymore.

If I particularly cared about what frivolous beauty the future held I might find it all the more tragic that the girl who won my design contest with the bowler hat was one of the victims. But a child is a child is a child, and the loss of one is no more important than another. If I am being entirely honest, I don’t even remember her name. Marie? Marianne?

No matter.

Well, no matter beyond how long it takes to draw Ladybug back out. The longer she hides, the more people will die.

Perhaps she is still hung up on what happened with Chat Noir two weeks ago. I do wish that hadn’t been necessary. I take no pride or satisfaction from destroying children. Still, nothing was as successful at weakening her as killing that boy.  Her grief let her tap into the great potential power that her Miraculous holds, but only to an extent. What she brought back wasn’t fully human, and they both know it. Even I can tell, from far away, that the boy is a broken monster now.

I shall be careful not to make such mistakes with my own family, once I’ve finally gained the power I seek.

Ladybug might be hiding, but Chat Noir has been seen now and then - always at night. He battles akuma and criminals, yes, but he doesn’t always seem to know who or what he’s fighting anymore. One of these days some innocent fool will walk down a dark alley and that thing will get blood on its claws. The boy he was once would probably beg to die, if there was any of him left. Perhaps once I’ve taken the miraculous from the girl, I’ll put her former partner out of his misery. It would be a mercy, really.  

Come out come out, wherever you are, little Ladybug. I will wait for as long as it takes, but Paris’s time is running out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN FROM ME, YOUR LOCAL FANDOM ASSHOLE 
> 
> I always thought the Miraculous Cure was a very convenient way to let Ladybug remain popular. If she couldn't fix everything, Paris would have crucified her for not turning over her Miraculous to Hawkmoth to stop the destruction. And, of course, everything would have gotten much darker. It's a kids' show, I get why they added it as a device, but I like to dwell on shit that seems too convenient. 
> 
> I have like half a dozen ideas for how to make this adorable world totally awful in my notebook, buuuut I am a slow writer and October's about to be over so I'll probably jump into nano and/or avoid nano via my main story.


End file.
